Grown Men Do Things Together
by Katta
Summary: Coupling. Jeff and Steve discuss whether watching porn is a gay thing to do. Slash.


"For the last time, Jeff," Steve said between clenched teeth. They'd been having the discussion for three days now, and he was tired of it. "Sally is not, nor has she ever been, nor will she ever be, a lesbian!"

Jeff's grin was no more affected by this than the first twenty times Steve had said it. "But she _could_ be," he repeated patiently. "'Cause of the whole situational thing."

Steve hurried his steps, half hoping Jeff would fall behind. The other half was oddly fascinated by the bizarre conversation. "Situational!? Explain to me just what is situational about being a lesbian."

"Well, it's like porn, isn't it, when..."

"_No_, Jeff." Steve stopped short and turned around, raising his hands in a forbidding gesture. "We've been through this. It's not like porn. Real life does not resemble porn. That's why it's porn. Otherwise it'd be called 'sexual documentary' or 'erotic non-fiction' or..."

"Or instruction manuals," Jeff suggested.

Steve grimaced, and after a moment's thought, nodded. "Or instruction manuals, as disturbing as that thought is."

"Like _watching_ porn, Steve." As always, Jeff managed to sound like he was the sane one in the discussion and Steve was just a bit slow on the uptake. "Because you don't have to be gay to do that."

"Agreed," Steve said. He was a bit cautious allowing Jeff to be right about anything, but this seemed safe enough.

"But it's still a gay thing to do."

Mayday! Disaster ahead, navigation damaged! He should have known better than to agree with Jeff on anything. "How? How is watching porn gay? They're women. We're men. We're watching them."

"Men!" Jeff said, happily gesticulating to and fro between the two of them. "Exactly!"

Steve got a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Jeff, if you're saying what I think you're saying..."

"Men watching porn together!" Jeff's excitement had now reached a very uncomfortable level for Steve. It was also very loud. Steve threw a nervous glance down the street. So far, no one had stopped and stared.

"Could you try to restrict your volume just the tiniest bit there, Jeff?"

"And if it's television porn, then it's men all over the world! Getting all hot and bothered together! It's one... giant... wank... fest!"

Steve was getting hot and bothered _now_. The way Jeff accentuated the words didn't help, either.

"In fact," Jeff continued, "it doesn't even have to be porn! It can just be men meeting in a corridor, and one of them says, 'Ooh, Julia Sawalha in a nurse's uniform!' and _bam_ -" he slapped his hands together "- all of the others..."

"Yes, thank you, Jeff," Steve said, fighting the urge to cover his ears, "that will be enough. I will now never be able to watch porn with you ever again. In fact, I won't be able to watch _films_ with you ever again."

Jeff's smile faded. "I thought you liked it."

Steve was more than usually pleased to see his door further down the street. The good old Taylor door, an oasis in the desert, a refuge from persecution by evil pornographic thoughts. "We're not having this conversation, Jeff."

* * *

Steve couldn't sleep.

He turned over on his left side. That made his legs creep.

He turned over on his right.

The room had been darker when he slept on his left. He liked the room dark. He couldn't be expected to sleep in a room that wasn't dark, could he?

"For God's sake!" Susan said, sitting up. "Will you stop that twisting and turning and just lie down! You're not running a marathon!"

He immediately lay down on his back, staring at the ceiling. "Sorry."

She gave him a long, worried look under knitted eyebrows. "Is something on your mind?"

"No."

"Steve..."

He propped himself up on his elbow, wondering how to phrase this. "Is it... Is watching porn... even lesbian porn... _gay_ in any way?"

She scoffed. "So help me, Steve, if the next words out of your mouth are 'a lesbian in a man's body'..."

"Of course not!" he said, affronted at her lack of confidence in him. "No, I meant, if men are watching porn together... and enjoying that... is it gay?"

"Out of the top of my head..." she said slowly, and his heart raced. "I can't think of anything _straighter_."

She pulled him close and planted her mouth on his. The kiss was deep and hard, with her tongue teasing his mouth until his head spun.

Then she let go, as suddenly as she had started it. "Liked that, did you?"

"Uh," he said, feeling weak and warm and very very randy.

She lay back down and pulled up the duvet. "Go to sleep, Steve."

* * *

Maybe he should have left well enough alone, but he couldn't. He followed the familiar road to Jeff's flat and on the way tried to come up with something to say. Something that would make the problem go away. Or something that would make the problem not a problem anymore. And something that assured Jeff that he was Steve's very best friend. On the other hand, he also needed to remind Jeff about the existence of Susan. The last thing he wanted was to mess things up with Susan again. Susan was sane and mature and incredibly attractive, and he _needed_ Susan. Trouble was, he needed Jeff too.

He rang the doorbell, and when the door opened he was still wondering what to say.

Jeff's face lit up. "Steve!"

Steve stepped inside and closed the door behind him. This was one conversation he didn't want to have where people could hear. "Do you want to sleep with me?"

Jeff blinked, and his mouth opened very slowly. "Why would I want to do that?"

"I..." Steve felt weak in the knees. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. "That discussion we had. I thought you might."

"Well," Jeff said, scratching his cheek, "it's a bit like a pot luck dinner. You bring chicken drumsticks, and someone else brings an apple pie, and it's fine. But if you both bring drumsticks, it's not much of a pot luck at all, is it? It's just a lot more chicken drumsticks than anyone could possibly need."

"Oh," Steve said.

"Of course," Jeff went on, "if the other drumstick has an apple pie, then it's still a pot luck, and you're fine. And maybe you find out that you're there _more_ for the other drumstick than you're there for the apple pie. But you'll _say_ that you're there for the apple pie. Even sometimes when the apple pie is - let's face it - stale, and the custard has lumps in it, and the drumstick is crisp and juicy..."

A strangled sound escaped Steves lips.

"It's just a drumstick, and it's not supposed to be a big deal or something you notice, so maybe you don't mention it at all. But sometimes you still need that other drumstick there, maybe more than you need the apple pie. You know, it'd be pretty sad to just be a guy sitting there with his own chicken drumsticks and a stale apple pie."

Steve spoke Jeff well enough to think he could untangle that analogy, but the conclusion he drew was so sensitive that he was still hesitant to ask: "You mean... you need me in order to enjoy porn?"

"I don't know about _need_," Jeff said. "Need is a strong word. But it... adds to the experience, yeah. Its not the same without you."

"Gotcha," Steve said. He was starting to feel rather light-headed, probably as a result from his difficulty to breathe. He fumbled for the doorknob, desperate to get some air and some space to think. Halfway out the door, he caught Jeff's expression, and he stopped short.

"Jeff," he said, longing for some of that eloquence that he could find on topics like upholstery or toilet doors. But all he could find to say was, "Same here."

Jeff's smile was bright and endearing. "Excellent."


End file.
